


What Is A Man?

by jaxxOnasty



Series: DMH FF.NET HP Reposts/Rewrites [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Harry Potter, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vampires, non-con tag cuz vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxxOnasty/pseuds/jaxxOnasty
Summary: Though he is more than a foot away from me, I can sense everything that's happening to him. His breathing picks up. His heart rate increases. And best of all, he fears.-Unrelated vampire fics.Reposted from ff.net
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: DMH FF.NET HP Reposts/Rewrites [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1398790
Kudos: 39





	1. Mine Own Silver Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the fourth fic I've ever written, my first time writing smut. And of course it was vampires.
> 
> Originally posted on ff.net on 10/27/2007 under the username darkmorsmordreheart.

"Nice costume, Draco."

He smiles at the compliments. He always has compliments to smile at, but he deserves them, I guess. He does look... nice, I suppose.

He's grown his hair just enough to pull into a sloppy ponytail, leaving a few strays to fall perfectly into liquid silver eyes. I'm envious. I'll never be able to do that.

And there is the way he carries himself. His walk, his stride, strut, whatever you want to call it. It enthralls you. It hypnotizes so that the only thing you are willing to look at is his stride and all you can do is hope and pray that it is in your direction. The way he carries himself... he knows that you want him.

I smile at my own thoughts, then wince and quickly end my grinning.

"Nice threads, Drake."

"Yeah, you'll win the contest for sure."

I laugh as he smiles at his Slytherin fans, surprising them with his realistic fangs. His costume really is ingenious. Completely white so that at first glance he seems like an angel, all pale skin and silver hair, the only thing missing is his wings. Instead, he has fangs. A deceiving vampire, he tells them.

The fool. He knows nothing. But he will soon learn.

I follow them into the Great Hall, so full of decorations and festive students that they do not even notice me. All Hallows' Eve is a special time for magical beings. It is a time of connection of everything to everything. It is a time of moonlight. It is a time of darkness. It is a time of life as much as it is a time for death.

I almost smile again. The entirety of the school is here and no one notices me. Least of all him.

I'm so close to him, I can smell his hair. So clean, crisp. Like after a rainstorm.

I wish to nuzzle him. To bury my face into the mass of straight, silk locks, but I resist. Later, I promise myself. Much later. Instead, I watch as the dances begin. He dances to almost every song, different partners touching different parts of him and he loves it.  _ Whore _ .

He will learn, but later... later.

I watch him silently for hours, not moving from my spot in the corner, just waiting for my chance and when I see it,  _ then _ I allow myself to smile.

I follow him into the haunted gardens that the orchestrators of this dance have been growing for weeks. Sure, the school itself is haunted, ghosts glide in and out of every room every day, but there are no ghosts here. This garden is made of darkness. Of plants that are not quite plants and shadows that are not quite shadows. I reach over to one shadowy vine and pull out what appears to be a wispy black rose. It looks to be made of smoke and when I move it back and forth, it leaves behind a thin black trail.

I look up from the ghostly flower and see that Draco has gone.

I feel the hairs on my neck stand straight and smile at his cleverness. How he ever managed to notice me  _ and _ get behind me, I'll never know. I blame it on this distracting flower and begin to tear it apart, shadowy petal by shadowy petal.

I walk slowly, leaving behind a trail of shadows so that my silver shadow can follow closely. Finally, we reach what seems to be the atrium of the garden. There's a fountain that flows shadows that creep up and appear to take the place of a glass roof. I look up at our shadowed cover and smile broadly when I feel a wand of hawthorn on the back of my neck.

"Potter."

"Malfoy." I turn casually and face him, looking into his mercury eyes with pleasure.

"What the hell are you playing at, following me like this?" he asks, his 'fangs' glinting in the light leaking in through the shadows. I don't answer; just simply continue to look into his eyes until he lowers his wand. I step closer and closer until he can feel my cool breath against his lips. "What? How-"

My lips silence him. He seems surprised. He must have seen this coming. I was being quite obvious, after all. My mouth invades his. My tongue traces his teeth, both real and conjured, and my teeth nibble his lips.

One of his hands is curled into my side - the one with the wand, I feel it in my ribs - and his other roams into my hair as he accepts the kiss. He's the one who deepens it. He's the one who moans. He's the one who bleeds.

The blood my fangs coaxed from his lips seeps into my mouth, both nourishing and filling me with a lust for more. I push him roughly away from me and allow him to see what I truly am. His eyes are fixed to my slightly opened mouth and, as if he just notices the blood flowing from it, he brings his finger up to his own. His eyes widen as they see the crimson coat the pale fingers.

Though he is more than a foot away from me, I can sense everything that's happening to him. His breathing picks up. His heart rate increases. And best of all, he fears.

I sense that he wants to run, so to give him a chance, I look down at the specter flower in my hand and blow it away into the rest of the gloom. When I lift my head, my silver shadow is gone.

I know I can catch him within seconds. Not only is his fear so prominent that it might as well be leading me to him with signs and arrows, but he is allowing the scent of his blood into the air and I follow it, like a dog to a bone.

My shadow leads me into the forest, an even more haunted place than the gardens. Its trees stand like skeletal sentinels, protecting and hiding their secrets. I close my eyes and slow my heartbeat so I can feel his.

When I open my eyes, I know that I am not in control of my body now. The demon that has stolen my soul is hungry. His feast is waiting.  _ His _ silver shadow.

I move quickly through the forest, the trees nothing but eerie white blurs to me as I pass them. Forest creatures run, scared of what's bigger and what's stronger, not daring to go anywhere near. One creature in particular is being extremely evasive. The demon regrets my earlier attempts to play chase with my shadow now that he's ravenous for it.

My shadow is using magic to get away from me.

Foolish lover, do you not know what I am? I am stronger than meager magic. I am the night and the moonlight. I am the forest you walk in now, the air you breathe, the water you drink to live. I am elemental and I _own_ _you_.

I finally pause and lounge quietly in the tree he pants against. His eyes practically glow in the dark and with his white clothes stained with drops of red and streaks of dirt, he really does look like an angel. Soon to be fallen. I can see sweat glistening on his forehead, sticking his beautiful hair there. I want to taste it. I want to taste him. All of him. I leap down from the tree, my landing as quiet as a leopard's would be and walk up behind him. His forehead is resting against the tree trunk, so he doesn't see when I pin my hands on either side of him, when I trap him.

He doesn't notice me until I kiss the damp skin at his nape.

He moans such beautiful moans. Deep and guttural, not forced, not practiced, but real. I pleasure him with my tongue against his neck alone and it arouses him so that he's grinding himself against the tree. I push into him so he can feel my hardness. I nuzzle his hair as I promised myself earlier.

"This is for you," I whisper into his ear, though no one else is around to hear us. "This is for you, but not just for tonight, sweet Draco. For longer, this can be yours. Do you accept me?"

"Yes," he moans so softly that no one without my abilities would be able to hear it.

I smile against his neck, scrape my fangs along the throbbing vein there. A tilt of his head back and our tongues mate; I relish in the taste of blood left over from our last kiss. I turn him so that he's facing me with his back against the tree and I continue the assault on his mouth.

When I pull away, he whimpers.

" _ Hush _ , Draco."

"Why can't I run from you?" he asks, voice low and rough.

"Why would you run from me?" I ask back, lifting his slender wrists and looking at the delicate mapping of blue-green showcased through thin skin. "Hmm, my little vampire? Do you have any idea what I can do to you? How I can pleasure you?"

"I've read about what you are," he snaps. "I know how to kill you!"

"Then do so," I challenge, leveling his wrist with my mouth and licking at the veins. All the while I look straight into liquid silver eyes.

Then, for a moment, there is silence.

"I-I... I can't," he answers finally, awkwardly, the tone of his voice a defeated one.

"And why is that?"

His eyes change, no longer desperate, but something else. "Because I want you."

"Like this?" I ask, brushing the tip of one fang against a vein. He nods and closes his eyes, waiting for the bite. I need him to look at me. "Draco?"

When he opens his eyes again, that’s when I sink myself into him. I suck at him first, then squeeze the cut, inciting a gasp, and then I lave at the steady stream of life he provides with the flat of my tongue.

When I'm finished, I force his wrist to his own mouth. He is hesitant, but his eyes leave the fresh scarlet on my lips. " _ Taste _ ," I encourage.

His lips tremble as he drinks his fill. His eyes close with what I feel is fear and disgust. I smile and take his wrist from him, running a finger over it and healing the wound. The crimson stands out to me. "Draco, you look so beautiful with color on your skin."

My thumb dips past his lips where he lavishes it with his own waiting tongue. I know that I cannot suppress my moan, so I don't even attempt it; I just try to make him moan louder. As he sucks my finger, I begin to undress him with my free hand. With every inch of pale flesh revealed my lust to pound into him increases.

I rake my nails down his sides when everything that had separated me from his chest is pooled around us on the forest floor. I pull him down, into my lap, and kiss and suck every succulent part of him I can reach. His own hands roam my body, tearing and tugging at my clothing, awkwardly pulling them off with a kind of desperation I've only ever witnessed with my own bloodlust.

"Harry... Harry," he grates out hoarsely against my mouth, grinding his lower half against mine. He's pleading; I know not why because the smell of his fear is warring with the scent of his desire, so I merely ignore the reason altogether and work my cool hand into his trousers and take his warm flesh into my palm. "Harry!"

My fangs graze his neck as I steadily stroke him, his incoherent begging ringing into my ears, but not affecting my pace at all. My hand tightens and stills as he begins to buck against it and he moans out in frustration.

"Do you want to come?"

He nods frantically, his eyes flashing as silver as his hair. I raise myself to my knees and turn him around to face the tree, pinning his wrists to the trunk. I pull our pants down and press myself to him, assuring him of what he will be receiving from me. He moans and grinds back against me, anxious for completion.

I enter him without preparation and he shrieks, his hands struggling to get out of my grip so he can stroke his flagging erection and chase his pleasures. I bite him again, his shoulder this time, not to drink but merely to watch in fascination at the scarlet running down the ivory of his body. "You are so beautiful, Draco."

He is beautiful. So much so that I almost regret what I'm to do next.

I lap at his blood, stroking my tongue against his neck in swirling motions that make him cry out and I bite him again. I bring my naked wrist to his lips and push it against his fangs, breaking the skin and causing my blood to gush into his mouth. He screams out as my pace increases, pain cresting into bliss; I'm thrusting into him now as if my life - or immortality - depends on it. He drinks from me, feeds, and comes, shooting his load onto the tree before us and sobbing out my name.

I pull my silver lover's hair until his face is lined up with his and I take his mouth fiercely as I ride out my own completion.

We are quiet afterwards, only because I am allowing him to adjust to the changes. Everything must be different to him. New sights, new scents... Even the feel of my skin against his must be different from before. He's shaking and I pull him closer to me, not for warmth - which he can never gain from my cold body - but for support.

Abruptly, he pulls away from me, pushes me back, and stands. The look he gives me is one of cold contempt. I merely lay back on the cool moss of the forest ground and smile; my fangs glinting in the moonlight. He stares at my fangs and brings his fingers up to his own, knowing now that they are less conjured and more permanent.

Silver tears begin to fall as he looks down at me and I only smile back.

He falls to his knees and crawls in between my legs to be cradled against my chest once more. He closes his eyes and presses his ear to the space of skin my heart should be beating under. I watch his lips curve up in acceptance and my own grin only widens as I wrap my arms around him.

He will stay with me now, forever, I know. Like my shadow, he'll be. Always with me.

Mine own silver shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, use lube.


	2. My Sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not editing this one at all. I'm just gonna live in the shame of having written a pretentious vampire fanfic in which I don't specify what the hell even fandom it's for or who the characters are, I insert song lyrics, the song is My Sunshine and it's in first person. I really thought I was doing something there.
> 
> Originally posted on ff.net on 3/25/2008 under the username darkmorsmordreheart.

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  
You make me happy when skies are grey.  
You'll never know dear how much I love you,  
So please don't take my sunshine away._

The only sound you hear is the beating of your own heart as it attempts the leap to your throat. For far too long, you've been running and it's finally catching up with you. You rest, you know not where, but you rest. There is brick beneath your fingers and dirt, and now blood from your coughing. You are surprised at the amount between your hands. You are surprised that you have any left to cough up.

You hear something, push yourself up, and begin to run once more.

_The other night, dear, as I lay dreaming  
I dreamt that you were by my side.  
Came disillusion when I awoke, dear.  
You were gone and then I cried._

You realize now, too late, that you shouldn't have run. It likes that thrill. It likes to chase, just like all natural born predators do. How could you have been so foolish? So stupid? You led it straight to you. Your fear only entices it more.

It's dark. It always seems dark, but you blindly dash ahead anyway, knowing that which chases you is darker than the shadows could ever wish to become. A cry cuts through the darkness; inhumane and monstrous. You jump, as expected, and fall pathetically. How mundane . . . How predictable.

I'm finished chasing you.

You bore me with your lack of energy. Lack of heat. All you do now is whimper in pain at whatever ligament you've just torn and the cuts and bites adorning your naked body.

"Get up," I hiss. "Run."

"I can't. Please, no more. No more." Your whimpers disgust me. I do not want to see you like this. I do not wish to pity you. You shake. You don't know where I am in the surrounding black, but you tremble with the knowledge that I'm there.

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  
You make me happy when skies are grey.  
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,  
So please don't take my sunshine away._

I see your tears for what they are. They stream down your face and, with no light, they shine black to me. Those sweet black tears, like licorice to me and poison all at once. Why are you able to hurt me with your sharp cries?

I'm so close to you now. So close and you don't even know.

You just cry and clutch your knee and shiver and wait for me to . . . take what I've already begun to take.

I count five bites on your chest and neck alone, one on your left thigh, two on your right. I've forgotten how many I've blessed your back and behind with, but I'm sure I would be satisfied with the number. I feasted on you. You've filled me with the richness you hide in those tiny veins of yours. I'm filled. "So completely."

The shivering stops at my whispered words. Your back is rigid and those eyes have opened, so dark, so green, so vivid with life. I'm almost jealous. Almost, I remind myself as I stroke a wound on your neck. You gasp and I lean forward to taste what I've already proved my gluttony upon. I suck you into me. I taste what you've hidden. I make what was once yours mine. I am selfish, I must even admit that.

_You told me once, dear, there'd be no other.  
That no one else could come between,  
But now you've left me to love another.  
You have broken all my dreams._

You moan and those legs fall open, regardless of the pain in your knee.

I fit perfectly between them. I'm not sure if that is a sign, but I take it as such. I so wish for you to be made for me as I am for you.

I slowly push into you. Your head falls back, giving me even more access to the creamy skin of your neck. You scream, even when you are still loosened from the earlier times I've caught you. You scream again and I smile. I know the difference between pleasure and pain just as I know the similarities in life and death; four things that will forever be ingrained into my spirit.

You pant so beautifully. These are whimpers I love. These are shivers that satisfy me.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you no longer regret running. It's always better when you run. Always. Because I am always there to chase you.

But as I mentioned previously, I am finished chasing you.

You splatter across my chest and stomach for the fourth time tonight and I lean away from your neck, my mouth wet with your secrets. I open the vein in my own wrist, spilling out my own treasure and I wet your mouth with it and, as I lean to mingle our tastes with our met lips, I dig into you. Into your chest. Past any barriers of skin, past any barriers that keep me from your beating heart and I hold it in my hands. I hold it.

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  
You make me happy when skies are grey.  
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,  
So please don't take my sunshine away._

And your breathing stops.

I pull away, my hand as wet as your chest and I lick it, wanting to taste what has been closest to your heart in that one precious moment. I pull myself from your cool, still body.

And you rise.

You sit up and those barriers that kept me from that heart cover you once more. I don't mind, I've already touched it. I've touched it in a way no one else has. You no longer wear my markings. I mind that, I wish I had counted the ones on your back. Now, I will never know. You lick me from your lips and are surprised at the sweetness of my treasure.

And your eyes, those eyes . . . they glow. Just for me they glow. I don't need sunshine when I have your eyes. You don't smile, but I know you want to. I know it's coming and I smile first. I bend to take those curving lips and I taste you as I never have before. You taste so good. So sweet and warm when I have been nothing but cold this entire time. You are my sunshine, through and through, and I whisper to you, only once, "If you ever leave me, I will take the sunshine from your eyes."

And you whisper back, "How can you take it from mine when it's in your own?"


	3. Do You Love Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Referenced Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter cuz who knows what I was doing in 2008.
> 
> Originally posted on ff.net on 9/8/2008 under the username darkmorsmordreheart.

"Midnights are time for naughtiness, Draco. Did you know that?"

The young blond opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him, as he had been all day when not sleeping. It had not changed since the last time and it would not have changed when he closed his eyes and opened them once again, but his insistent mercury gaze appeared riveted to the sight of it. Uneven, rough grey stone and spider webs:  _ exciting _ . He rolled his neck deliberately, both to look away from the dank ceiling and to stretch his tense muscles. Hour after hour in his forced position created knots that were not easily loosened.

"Naughty midnight magic, Draco. D’you like the idea of that?"

He tentatively tested his bonds. Still tight. Still strong. He almost wished for manacles rather than the thick, tight rope. It tore into his skin, burned his wrists and ankles with every movement. The banging of his delicate joints against the rusted metal of manacles and chains he was sure he could handle, but for the burning of rope. He hissed in pain as he rolled his aching shoulders and, in effect, moved the arms tied above his head. How he hated the pain of the rope, but in some ways, he relished in the pain... It meant he was still able to feel. Feeling was good. Feeling meant he was alive.

"Midnight. Midnight. Naughty, naughty midnight," the voice near the end of his bed chanted in the ever present giddy tone he had come to familiarize with the rope. "We'll do naughty things tonight, Draco. Look at what I've worn for you."

He glanced at the dull ceiling once before allowing his cool gaze to follow the voice.

It was dressed in purple, the thing that looked like his rival was. A rich, rich purple. A royal color, one to adorn the bodies of kings and queens, not meant to drape the putrid flesh of the thing that looked like his rival. It wore nothing beneath the robes, nothing that he could see through the thin fabric. Nothing but inches and inches of pure white flesh where once there had been golden skin and pink blushes. The robes hung long on its lean frame. He presumed they did not stop until pallid toes, but his bonds allowed him only so much of a field of vision. It smiled at him and sauntered up the side of the bed, its cold fingers painting a trail up his leg and thigh until they halted just next to his hipbone.

"Look what I've worn for you, Draco," it said again, fiddling with the dark fabric that occasionally brushed against its navel. "D’you like it?"

"You look like a whore," the blond rasped. The first words of the night.

It pouted and for a moment, the pale green eyes went dark, but within the next second, the darkness was gone and a smile played on its lips. The cold fingers followed the sharp line of his hipbone and nested within his pale blond pubic hairs. "You didn't say you  _ didn't _ like it." He didn't respond, but closed his eyes and hissed when the cold hand wrapped around his rigid length. "Naughty, naughty midnight."

He lifted his hips up, pumping faster and faster into the cool hand until the fingers suddenly fell away and his eyes opened once more to the sight of the ceiling. He felt the bed dip and cool legs straddled his own.

"I think it's time for a story. How about you?" the giddy little voice asked. He didn't reply, but arched his body at the feel of icy palms running across the skin of his chest. It took his reaction as a yes. "Now, Draco, you must forgive me because this story is from such a long time ago... I sometimes drift away when telling it. I almost can't remember it, but I know I'll never forget." It smiled down at him, its sharp teeth glinting in the dim candlelight. He did not smile back. "Your father and I were  _ lovers _ ," it said and he winced - it always told this story. "He loved me, Draco. He loved me so much. He lavished me with presents... Like this robe!"

The blond watched as it pulled the garment in question off and ripped it to shreds. The thin fabric floated down onto his face like amethyst snow, warmer than the skin against his. A silky strip landed on his lips and it leaned forward and kissed it. He kissed back.

"I was a prince to be pampered, he told me," it announced as it pulled away from silk covered lips. "And he would give me everything." It tilted his head and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. Cool hands ran up his chest to his neck and finally either side of his jaw and it smiled with sharp white teeth and glittering sage eyes. "You look like him, Draco. He would lie beneath me like this and whisper those pretty words and he would love me." Sage eyes closed and one hand left his jaw to explore its own pale skin; first its throat, then its chest, the nipples and navel. "I would ride him and he would tell me these things... Would you whisper those things to me, too, Draco?"

"Ride me," he suggested and those eyes opened, gazing down at him as if just realizing his existence. Thin, pale pink lips parted and a wild giggle was let loose. It closed its eyes and pushed its hands flat against his chest as it levered its hips up. The blond arched into the sudden cold tightness and it screamed; the eyes that opened now were crimson and raging, the scream was tainted and sinful. The eyes closed just as the scream ended and he watched its face. It looked as if it was asking a silent question or trying to solve a particularly hard puzzle a moment before it opened its sage eyes. It smiled and moved its hips experimentally while hissing in pain.

"Very, very naughty. Very naughty, Draco. Naughty Draco," it gasped, fisting its hands into its dark hair. Pale hips pulled up, pushed down, and forced pained pleasure from his tender organ. The passage was tight, unbelievably so and so wet with both his pleasure and it's borrow blood. There was no way the pool of blood oozing from their joining could possibly belong to it. Impossible, but so delightfully cold. Deliciously stolen and used to pleasure him. "Mmm, just like your father."

It stopped moving suddenly and the blond yanked against his bonds in protest. One of the fisted hands left the black locks and created a path to the cool skin just under its navel. A finger gathered drops of cool sweat and brought them to its lips. Pale green eyes looked down at him and it smiled. "He was amazing. More amazing than you could ever be, Draco. When he was inside me, he overwhelmed me with emotion and with his power. He was the only man to ever truly take me. I feel only a ghost of him when you are inside of me." It looked down on his blank face with disdain then quickly, harshly slapped him across the mouth, the torn fabric of its robes floating silently to the pillow beside his head. He said nothing and received a kiss. And another.

"You taste like him and smell like him. Your eyes are lighter, your hair is darker, your skin is smoother." It smiled as memories rushed through it, causing the thin, pale body to tremble. "The fingertips against my body were always rough. They felt so good." It moved its hips and he moaned. "Everything with him was always so good."

"Why aren't you with him?" he asked. A dreamier look danced across its face and the smile widened.

"One night," it began as it moved its hips. "We were making love, your father and I. All I would have to say was, 'Do you love me?' and he would give the sweetest smile and whisper yes to me and I knew he was telling the truth. He always told me the truth. No matter what." It rolled its hips and they both moaned. "He was so handsome that night. His shining hair spread out across the pillow, his skin shimmering like champagne in the candlelight, his smile warming every part of me. I wanted him inside of me that night so badly, just like always. But he wasn't inside me…”

"Why?" he asked quietly and it closed its eyes.

"I can't... No, he wasn't inside me because... someone else was," it whispered as the hips rolled again. "He was beneath me as always, but not inside me and... his eyes were not smiling." It thrust down suddenly and an array of moans echoed through the small room. "They were darker than yours... so dark and..."

"Not smiling," he provided.

"Yes," it groaned, arching back as electric pleasure spread between them. "Yes, Draco... Yes, yes, yes...  _ Yes _ ." It bit its lips and twin pinpricks of bright red appeared upon the pale skin. "No smile... His lips smiled, but they didn't say a word and his eyes looked at nothing."

"Smiled at nothing."

"Smiled at nothing," it agreed, torment in its voice either from the story or the rising passion or both. "But he was so handsome and his lips smiled and I felt warm, but he was cold."

"Who was inside of you?"

"A monster," it said, its smile returning with a throaty bout of laughter. It lifted its hands as if to catch something in the air, but unceremoniously let them drop to his sides as he stopped moving.

"Don't," he murmured, but was ignored.

"The monster, it took away your father's warmth... and then.."

"And then?" he prompted, the pressure between his legs uncomfortably building as the passage seemed to grow tighter.

"And then, it took me," it giggled, bouncing up and down in delight until he exploded inside the tight passage, coating the cold bloodied walls with pleasure and pain all at once. He released a husky scream and banged his head against the hard pillow as he fell back down from barely skimming heaven and landed once more in hell. It looked satisfied, however, despite the rigid evidence of arousal dripping want onto his stomach. Fingers threaded into his pale blond locks and it smiled. He did not smile back. "It took me, Draco, and I lost all my warmth, too."

"Did you?" he panted, closing his eyes in shivering pleasure as it bent forward and kissed his sweaty brow.

"I would ask him if he loved me and he would always answer," it whispered against his skin before moving to whisper some more into his ear. "'D’you love me, Lucius?' I would ask just like this." It pulled away and looked down at him, its eyes hungry and hot. "And he would always answer, 'Yes. So much. I love you so much.'" It smiled and looked up at the dank ceiling; the grayness of it and the spider webs. "I asked him when my warmth was lost and he said nothing."

"Nothing?" It didn't answer him, just looked down at him with cold and hungry eyes. Then finally, those sage eyes closed and it leaned forward, pressing its cold face into his neck and tickling him with the cold trickle of its tears.

"D’you love me, Draco?"

He yanked at the rope tying his arms above his head and it tore away to allow him to wrap his arms around that thin, pale body.

"Yes. So much," he replied, smiling up at the ceiling, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim candlelight of the room. "I love you so much, Harry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I don't even know, but I liked it. Anyways, use lube.


End file.
